


No Such Thing As Ghosts

by Ltleflrt



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghosts, F/M, Gen, Kid Castiel, Kid Castiel/Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Dean Winchester, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-07
Updated: 2014-10-07
Packaged: 2018-02-20 06:10:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2417912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the age of 8, Dean meets his very best friend, and has the best two weeks of his young life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Such Thing As Ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> Fanart by Linneart! :D

_Summer 1987_

 

The screen door slammed, nearly drowning out his mama's voice as he hurtled down the back porch steps.  The bang was loud enough that he would use that as his excuse for not listening when she hollered at him. 

"Dean Winchester, you don't go far!  You hear me?" 

He didn't answer, and just continued to run, his feet thudding through the grass and weeds of the cabin's tiny back yard.  He'd been waiting for this trip _all year_ , and he was going to make the most of it.  

Excitement leant him speed as he barrelled toward the tree line.  Two weeks at the cabin!  School was finally out, and Dad had kept his promise to take them out to Grandpa Campbell's cabin, and he had two whole weeks to explore and play.  This wasn't the first time they had been here, but they had only stayed a few days before, and Mom hadn't let Dean out of her sight the whole time.   

But now he was a big kid, and he didn't need her watching over him like he was a baby.  And she would be busy taking care of little Sammy anyway, so she wouldn't have any time to keep him from having all the fun he wanted. 

"Dee'!" 

Dean slid to a stop just short of the trees and turned back with an exaggerated huff.  "Sammy, you can't go." 

His little brother, barely four now, didn't listen of course.  He never did.  He ran clumsily through the tall clumps of grass toward Dean, his shaggy brown hair bouncing around his chubby cheeks.  When he reached Dean, he threw his arms around his older brother's waist and buried his face in Dean's shirt.  "I wanna go, Dee'!" 

Dean sighed and rolled his eyes before he started prying Sammy away.  Chubby fingers sticky with jelly from lunch clung to him tightly and it took quite a bit of effort to free himself.  "No, Sammy.  You're still a baby.  You have to stay here." 

Sammy looked up at him with wide brown eyes, and stuck his bottom lip out.  It trembled slightly and Dean almost, _almost,_ gave in.  But he didn't want to have to keep an eye on his little brother while he played.  He wanted to climb trees and chase frogs and find a pretty rock for Mama, but he couldn't do that with Sammy tagging along.   

"No, Sammy.  I don't want you to come." 

The lip tremble increased, and Sammy's eyes filled with tears.   

"Oh no.  No no, don't cry, buddy."  Dean knelt down so that he was looking up at Sammy.  He wrapped him in a big hug.  "I just want you to be safe, and there’s scary stuff in the woods.” 

Sammy sniffled loudly, and ran the back of his arm over his runny nose - gross.  But he calmed down and looked down at Dean curiously.  “What kinda scary stuff?” 

“You know, like fairies and witches and ghosts,” Dean explained.  He didn’t believe in that kind of stuff anymore, but Sammy did and Dean wasn’t above scaring his little brother back to the house.  

“How come you’re not scared?”  Sammy’s tears had stopped dripping down his cheeks, but now he cast glances at the treeline every few seconds. 

Dean grinned.  “Cuz I hunt monsters!” 

Sammy’s face screwed up in a distrustful look.  “You do?” 

“Yeah!” Dean said, poking Sammy in the tummy a few times until he giggled and backed away a step.  “And I can’t very well go hunting monsters when I have to keep an eye out on you too.  What if a ghost gets you?” 

“I’m not scared of ghosts.”  But Sammy’s voice wobbled, and Dean knew he was fibbing. 

“I know you’re not, buddy,” Dean assured him.  “But I’d feel a lot better if you’d stay here for now.  Maybe when you’re bigger I’ll teach you to hunt monsters too.” 

Sammy blinked at him a few times, and then he nodded.  His bottom lip was still stuck out though, so Dean grabbed it and tugged, making Sammy squeal and pull away.  Dean got back on his feet and curled his fingers in claws.  Sammy started giggling, and backing away, and when Dean let out a growl, he squealed again and spun around to run away, giggling all the way back to the house. 

He stopped on the porch and waved at Dean before going inside.  Dean waved back, grinning.  He liked his little brother a lot, but right now Dean really just wanted to play on his own for a while. 

He spun around and ran into the woods.   

He wouldn’t go too far of course.  He’d lied about the monsters, but he’d heard enough about bears and mountain lions that he was going to be smart and stay within yelling distance of the house.  He had a good strong yell though, so that was pretty far. 

Grabbing a stick that was about as tall as he was off the ground, he held it like a spear and pretended to stalk through the underbrush.  If a mountain lion came after him, he’d be ready! 

He wandered through the trees, never letting the house completely out of his sight through the trunks.  He watched the ground looking for a pretty rock for mama, but instead he stumbled upon a little path made of big flat stones.  Deciding it must be safe if someone went to the trouble of making it, Dean decided to follow the path, hitting plants with his stick along the way. 

Soon he could hear the sound of running water, and the trees opened up in front of him to reveal a creek at the bottom of a little hill.  Dean grinned and rushed forward down the slope.  Maybe he could find a frog to bring home to gross out Sammy with! 

He was a few feet from the water when he saw the other boy crouched on a rock that stuck up out of the water.  Dean skidded to a halt, nearly losing his balance, but catching himself on his stick just in time to keep from going down on his knees. 

From here he could only see the boy’s back.  He was hunched over the water, poking at something between the rocks with a short stick.  Curious, Dean took a few steps forward to see if he could get a better look.  He stopped on the edge of the bank, not willing to step in the water and get his sneakers wet.  Craning his neck, he tried to see over the boy’s shoulder. 

The boy hadn’t noticed him yet, so Dean decided to try and get his attention.  “Watcha lookin’ at?” he called. 

The boy jumped and nearly lost his balance.  He caught himself with one hand on another nearby rock that was sticking out of the water, and twisted just enough to look at Dean over his shoulder.  His eyes were wide with surprise, and maybe a little bit of fear.   

And they were blue.  Man, they were so blue, and Dean didn’t even know that a color like that could be real.  

The boy suddenly straightened and turned to face him, stick held out in front of him like a sword.  “Who are you?” he demanded.  

With his dark hair sticking up in every direction, and smears of dirt on his pale face, the boy looked kinda like an elf.  An elf about Dean’s age, even if he was maybe a little bit smaller than Dean.  And he was dressed funny.  His shirt and pants looked like someone had made them out of the kind of material Mama used for tablecloths.  It kinda reminded him of the way Huck Finn dressed in that movie his teacher played for them on the last day of school. 

“I’m Dean.  Who’re you?”  

The boy tilted his head, eyeing Dean as if he were a great mystery.  Finally after a moment he lowered his stick, letting the tip hang in the water near his feet.  “I am Castiel.” 

Dean’s face screwed up in concentration.  “Casteel?” 

Castiel shook his head, and a smile twitched at his lips.  “Cas-tee-yel,” he enunciated. 

Dean said it again, slowly so he’d get it right.  “Castiel?” 

The other boy grinned, his nose wrinkling up.  “That’s right.” 

“That’s a funny name,” Dean pointed out. 

Castiel shrugged and looked down at the water near his feet, his smile fading.  “It’s an angel name.” 

“Weird.”  Dean shrugged, and let it go.  He looked down at the water around Castiel’s rock.  “What’re you doing?” 

Castiel’s expression lit up again and he turned to squat down on the rock again.  “There’re crawdads in here.” 

“What’re crawdads?” Dean asked.  He really wanted to go out the few feet to where Castiel was.  Forgetting his shoes, he stepped out into the water, shivering a little at how cold it was. 

“Come see.”   

Castiel beckoned him over, and Dean gave up all thought of trying to stay clean.  He clambered through the water and crawled up on the rock next to Castiel’s.  He peered down into the little pool of calm water between the rocks, squinting against the glint of sunlight on the water.  “I don’t see anything,” he said after a moment. 

“They’re the same color as the rocks,” Castiel explained.  “Watch.”   

He stuck his stick into the water and poked at what looked like a little rock.  But then it moved! 

Dean leaned further over the water to get a better look.  The critter had a whole lot of legs, and pincers like a crab.  “Whoa, cool!”  He lifted his head to grin at Castiel, and found the other boy’s face scrunched up in a happy expression.  Dean laughed.  “That’s awesome, Cas.  Think we can catch one?” 

“I’ve been trying to,” Castiel said, turning his attention back to the pool of water.  “But it’s deeper than it looks.  And the last time I almost caught one it tried to pinch me.” 

“Huh,” Dean replied, staring down into the water, thinking hard.  “Maybe if we had more sticks.  We could try and grab it like they were giant chopsticks.” 

Castiel wrinkled his nose.  “What are chopsticks?” 

Dean looked up at him again.  “You know… like you eat Chinese food with?  Mama makes me use a fork so I won’t make a mess, though.” 

Castiel tilted his head again, obviously confused.  “Chinese food?” 

“Yeah.  You know, like kung pao chicken?  Rice ‘n stuff?”  When Castiel shook his head and looked even more confused, Dean huffed out a laugh.  “Dude, you’re missing out.  It’s awesome.” 

“If you say so,” Castiel said as he turned back to watch the water.  After a moment he looked up, his eyes wide with excitement.  “But do you think it’ll work?” 

“Yeah, let’s try it!” Dean jumped up and splashed back to the bank, looking for another stick like Castiel’s.  His walking stick was a little too wide, so he propped it against a tree so that he could grab it again later. 

When he found what he was looking for, he came back to Castiel and held his hand out.  Castiel handed his stick over and traded places with Dean to give him space to work.   

It took a while, and a lot of failed tries, but eventually Dean managed to grab one of the crawdads between the two sticks.  He carefully held them up and Castiel gingerly grabbed the critter behind it’s claws so it couldn’t pinch them.  They leaned their heads together, laughing over their success and staring at the weird creature. 

“Dude, that is so gross looking,” Dean said with a laugh. 

“They taste good dipped in butter though,” Castiel countered. 

“Gross!” 

Castiel gave him a reproachful glare.  Then his lips tilted up in a way that Dean knew meant he was going to do something crazy.  Castiel suddenly tossed the crawdad at Dean, who did _not_ scream, although he did jump back.  He lost his balance and fell butt first into the stream. 

It wasn’t very deep, but now he was drenched from the waist down.  He looked up to see Castiel standing over him, still perched on the rock.  He was grinning again, nose wrinkled up, and his very very blue eyes were practically glowing with mirth.   

At first Dean was mad, because Mama had made him promise to try and stay clean.  But Castiel’s grin was infectious.  The anger drained away, and Dean threw his head back and laughed.  He slapped at the water, sending a spray at Castiel who ducked, but not enough to get out of the way.  “Butthead!” 

Castiel laughed and hopped off the rock into the water, splashing Dean back.  Dean grabbed him around the knees and jerked him down into the water.  They wrestled around, shoving handfuls of wet sand down each other’s shirts until they both ended up on their backs on the bank, grinning up at the sky as they caught their breath.   

After a few minutes of quiet, Castiel’s hand came up and he pointed at one of the fluffy coulds overhead.  “That one looks like a crawdad.” 

“You look like a crawdad,” Dean retorted, although if he squinted, he could kinda see what Castiel meant. 

Castiel snorted.  “That doesn’t make any sense.” 

“You don’t make any sense.” 

They both dissolved into laughter again.

“Dean!” 

Dean sat up at the sound of his mother’s voice and looked back through the trees in the direction of the house.  Disappointment made his shoulders sag.  “Ah man, that’s my mom.  I gotta go.”  He looked over as his new friend sat up.  “Wanna hang out tomorrow?” 

Castiel’s sad frown faded into a hopeful half-smile.  “I’d like that.” 

“‘Kay,” Dean answered as he got up and tried to dust the damp dirt off the back of his jeans.  “I’ll come out after lunch tomorrow.  Meet me here?” 

Castiel nodded eagerly. 

“Awesome!  See you tomorrow, buddy!” Dean called as he started running back to the house.  

It didn’t take him long to get back because it wasn’t far.  His mama was standing on the back porch, holding Sammy in one arm while she used her free hand to shade her eyes.   

Her eyes widened when she caught sight of Dean, and for a moment he thought she was going to get mad because he was still wet and covered in sand and mud.  But she just smiled at him.  “You look like you had fun today.” 

“I met a kid named Cas,” he told her as he tromped up the porch steps toward her.  “We used sticks to catch a crawdad, and then we got in a water fight.” 

Mary, frowned a little.  “Huh, I didn’t know there were any other cabins close by.” 

But Dean wasn’t paying attention to her.  He was busy pulling off his shoes off.  “His name is Castiel, but that’s kinda hard to say, so I call him Cas.” 

He kept talking about how awesome Cas was all through getting a bath, and talked about how he wanted to go play with him again the next day.  Mary just smiled and let him ramble on, happy to know that her son had found a friend. 

The next day, Dean barely managed to keep from vibrating out of his shoes, he was so excited to go play with Castiel.  A few times he thought about going early, but he had to play with Sammy, and Mama insisted he eat lunch and help her clean up the dishes before he went.   

 _Finally_ , he was free, and running back into the woods.  

He found Castiel standing on the bank of the stream, skipping rocks.  He was wearing the same clothes as the day before, but they looked clean and dry now.  But his hair was just as messy as it had been before.  His blue eyes lit up when he turned to see Dean running out of the trees. 

“Hey!” Dean said as he skidded to a halt next to his new friend.  “That’s awesome.  Can you show me how to do it?” 

“Yes,” Castiel said as he held out a hand full of flat, round rocks.  “Take one, and I will show you what to do.” 

They spent the afternoon skipping rocks, and when they got tired of that, Castiel took Dean to show him some of his favorite places in the forrest.  They poked around in tiny rock caves, and climbed under a huge log where Castiel showed him giant red mushrooms and warned him not to touch them.   

The next day they met again, just after lunch.  And Dean brought a ball of twine so they could make wooden swords, and play fight with them.  They gathered long branches and tied them together at the top to make a tiny teepee that they could fit in together if they squeezed tight. 

The day after that, they played hide and seek.  Castiel was unfairly good at it.  When it was his turn to hide, he practically disappeared, and Dean had to give up more than once.  And when it was Castiel’s turn to seek, he always found Dean super fast.  But Dean was having too much fun to complain.  They gathered rocks, looking for that special one that Dean could give to his Mama.  Lots of them were pretty, but not quite what he was looking for. 

Sammy was jealous of course, but Dean made sure to play with him every morning.  He didn’t want his little brother to think that Dean didn’t want to be around him, and he really enjoyed teasing Sammy and making him laugh.  But he never hesitated to running back into the woods every day after lunch.  

When Dean learned that Castiel had _never had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich_ he made four of them himself, making a complete mess of the kitchen.  But Mary only smiled at him indulgently and wrapped the mangled sandwiches in plastic and waved him out the door. 

Castiel’s smile when he bit into the first one, made Dean so happy, he felt like he was going to fill up with it and float away. 

After that, he brought sandwiches every day.   

On the last day of the first week they were sitting in the second teepee they’d built that was bigger and sturdier than the first one, eating their sandwiches when Dean had an idea.  “You should come to my house for dinner.  My mom’s making spaghetti, and you can meet Sammy. I can show you my comics and-” 

Castiel stiffened.  “I can’t.” 

Dean lowered his sandwich to his lap.  “Why not?” 

“I just can’t.”  Castiel took a huge bite of his sandwich.  His cheeks puffed out, and his jaw worked slowly through the mouthful of peanut butter. 

Dean’s heart sank a little bit.  Castiel was totally the best friend he’d ever had, and it kinda sucked that he could only see him for a few hours every day.  And then he remembered that he only had a week left until they had to go home, and he lost his appetite.  He started picking pieces of his sandwich off and tossing them out into the open space in front of the teepee.   

“What’s wrong?” Castiel asked. 

Dean sighed.  “I’m going to miss you when I go home.” 

“Oh.”  Castiel fidgeted next to him.  “I’m going to miss you too.  But I’m used to being alone.” 

Dean’s head jerked up at that.  “What do you mean?” 

Castiel shrugged and copied Dean’s motion of picking the sandwich apart and tossing pieces outside.  “I’ve been alone for a very long time.  You’re the first person to…” he paused and glanced at Dean out of the corner of his eyes.  Even though it was shady inside their little shelter, his eyes seemed to glow.  “No one has ever seen me… in a very long time.” 

“Dude, really?” Dean stared at his friend, trying to wrap his brain around the idea that Castiel didn’t have any friends.  ‘Cuz he was so freaking _awesome._  “No one?” 

Castiel dropped his eyes to his hands, half of his sandwich now squished between his fingers.  “My family is gone, and I’m all alone.” 

Dean’s eyes widened.  The idea that Castiel was out here by himself, not only with no one to play with except Dean, but no one to take care of him either… well it just wasn’t right.  He balanced what was left of his own lunch on his knee and leaned toward his friend, wrapping him in a hug.   

Castiel went stiff, and for a second Dean thought he would pull away.  But then he leaned into the hug, laying his head on Dean’s shoulder.  

“You could come live with me,” Dean said after a few minutes. 

Castiel made a hurt sound, and Dean pulled him closer.  It bothered him that his best friend was all alone like this.  Maybe he could talk to Mama and see if it she’d be okay having another kid in the house.  Then they could be best friends forever, and go to school together, and Dean could show Castiel his Atari, and everything would be perfect. 

After a few minutes, Castiel pulled away.  He rubbed the heel of his hand against his eyes, smearing tears over his cheeks.  His lips wobbled a little, but he smiled at Dean.  “That would be really nice, Dean.  But I really can’t.” 

“Why not?” Dean demanded.  Of course he could.  Kids weren’t supposed to be left on their own, right? 

Castiel sighed, and without answering, he tucked what was left of his sandwich into the paper bag Dean had brought.  Then he crawled out of the teepee, and waited for Dean to join him.   

Once they were both outside, Castiel turned away and looked down the stream.  Following his gaze, Dean could see where the water cut through a hill.  An old mossy log crossed it, and more than once Dean had wondered why they didn’t go over there and play.  It would be a great place to stand and drop rocks into the water.  But when Dean had pointed it out on the second day they’d played together, Castiel’s face had gone all serious and he’d refused to go anywhere near it. 

“I want to show you something,” Castiel said.  Without waiting for Dean to answer, he started walking toward the log bridge.  

Dean had to jog a little to catch up with him.  Castiel was sometimes very serious, and one of Dean’s favorite things to do was to try and get him to laugh.  But something about the way he was acting now made Dean think that now would be a bad time to crack jokes, so he followed silently.  

Instead of climbing the hill up to where the log bridge was, Castiel walked out into the water underneath it. Dean struggled to follow him because the current was stronger there, and it was kinda deep. 

“Cas, I don’t know if we should go under there,” Dean said when the water came up to the middle of his thighs.  He stopped and held his hands out to his sides to try and keep his balance.   

Castiel stopped and turned to look at him, and that’s when Dean noticed that the water didn’t seem to be affecting him at all.  His pants didn’t even look like they were wet, which was weird, ‘cuz Dean had seen him get soaked plenty of times.  And for some reason, his skin seemed kinda glowy in the shade. 

Dean shivered, suddenly too cold.  He took a step back.  “Cas, I think we should go back.” 

“Dean…” 

Castiel sounded sad, and Dean was torn between wanting to hug him again, and wanting to run away because something _didn’t feel right._  He took another step back, and his foot slipped on a rock.  His arms pinwheeled as he tried to catch himself, but it was no good, he was falling over. 

Then Cas _flickered_ and he was right beside Dean, catching him and helping him stand up straight again. 

“Dude,” Dean breathed once he felt safe again.  “How did you do that?” 

Castiel smiled, but it was sad, and it made Dean’s chest ache.  It reminded him of the times when he was alone in his room at night and he had a bad dream and all he wanted was to run into his Mama and Daddy’s room and crawl in between them on the bed.   

Instead of answering, Castiel took Dean’s hand and led him further into the water.  “It’s alright, Dean,” he said softly.  “I’ve got you.” 

They were waist deep in the water, and Dean had a death grip on Castiel’s arm to keep from getting swept away.  And still, the water didn’t seem to affect Castiel at all.  When they stopped, Castiel looked at Dean, the sad smile still in place.  He nodded down toward the water, and pointed at where he wanted Dean to look. 

At first, Dean didn’t see anything.  The water was in the shade, so he didn’t have to deal with the sun reflecting off it, but it was also kinda dark here, and he couldn’t tell what Castiel wanted him to look at. 

But then he saw it.  He’d thought it was a branch at first, but when he looked close, leaning his face near the surface of the water, he realized it was… 

“Dude, is that a skeleton?” he whispered.  He’d seen enough fake skeletons on TV and around people’s houses at Halloween time, that he was pretty sure that’s exactly what he was seeing.  It wasn’t white like he would have expected.  Instead it was brown, and covered in fuzz like the rocks around it. 

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from it, but from the corner of his eye he saw Castiel nod.  “Yes, that’s a skeleton.  It’s _my_ skeleton.” 

Dean jerked back, and if it weren’t for Castiel’s grip on his arm, he would have fallen.  He stared at Castiel with wide eyes.  “What?” 

Castiel chewed his bottom lip and then looked up.  Dean followed his eyes, and saw the log almost straight above them.   

“I fell,” Castiel said simply. 

Dean suddenly couldn’t stand to have Castiel touching him.  He jerked his arm free, and stumbled.  The water knocked him over, but he knew how to doggy paddle, and the stream became more shallow a few more feet toward the bank. 

When his feet touched the bottom again, he scrambled up onto dry land.  He was completely soaked and his sneakers squished around his toes, but he didn’t care.  The only thing he could think of was that Castiel was a _ghost._  

He ran.  Ran and ran, until he was out of breath and bursting through the back door into the cabin’s kitchen.  His mom looked up and called after him, but he didn’t hear her.  His ears felt like they were full of water, and all he could hear was his heartbeat… _thump athump thump athump…_  

He ignored Sammy and the fact that he was still wet from his dunking in the stream, and he jumped into his bed, muddy shoes and all.  He pulled his blanket over his head, and prayed that the ghost hadn’t followed him back to his house.   

Mary came into the room a minute or so later.  “Dean, baby?  What’s wrong?” 

He felt her touch his back through the blanket, and he whimpered.   

“Dean?” She forced the blanket back just enough to see him, and her eyes went wide.  “Baby, you’re soaking wet!  And.. are you crying?  What’s the matter?” 

Dean jumped up out of the blankets and threw himself into her arms.  He couldn’t answer her when she kept asking him what was wrong.  She probably wouldn’t believe him anyway.  Ghosts weren’t real, right?  Daddy always said ghosts weren’t real.   

Ghosts weren’t real, and neither was Castiel. 

He kept telling himself that for the rest of the next week.  He’d sit in his room and stare out his window toward the forest, and he’d think _ghosts aren’t real._  

He’d play Linkin Logs with Sammy, and he’d think _ghosts aren’t real._  

He’d eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, and he’d think _ghosts aren’t real._  

He refused to go outside unless Mama or Daddy were out there with him, so he spent most of his time inside.  Sammy loved having him around to play with, but Dean began to feel restless by the end of their stay.  It was summer, and he wanted to be outside. 

And ghosts weren’t real, right? 

He’d managed to convince himself that Castiel had lied.  That skeleton wasn’t his.  He’d just found it and wanted to play a joke on Dean.  And Dean had fallen for it big time.   

He felt like a doofus.   

But even still, he paused on the back porch and stared out into the woods. 

“Honey?” 

Dean looked up at his Mama as she came outside, the screen door clapping gently back into it’s frame when she let it go.  She smiled and ran her fingers through his hair, ruffling it playfully.   

“You haven’t gone out much to play the last few days,” she said.  “I’m surprised you’re not running for the woods.  Don’t you miss your little friend Cassie?” 

“Cas,” he corrected her absently.  He looked back out at the trees.  “Mama, there’s no such thing as ghosts, right?” 

She laughed lightly.  “Of course not, baby.” 

He looked up at her again, trying to figure out if she was telling the truth or not.  But she was smiling warmly at him, just like she always did when she thought he was being a little bit funny.  “You sure?” 

Her smile dimmed a little and she sat down on the porch steps next to him, and wrapped an arm around his hips to pull him close.  “There’s no such thing as ghosts,” she said earnestly.  And then she grinned, and it was so bright and sunny he couldn’t help smiling back at her.  “But there’s angels.” 

“Yeah?” Mama loved angels.  She had a little angel statue on her dresser with her hair brush and her jewelry box, and she always talked about praying to the angels for good luck when she was having a bad day. 

“Yeah,” she said, squeezing him close.  “And they’re always watching over you.” 

He looked back out at the forest.  He wasn’t really sure whether he believed that angels were watching over him, but he liked the idea.  It was a lot better than thinking that the best friend he’d ever had was a ghost.   

He leaned into Mary’s side and knocked the side of his head against hers.  “I love you, Mama.” 

“I love you too, baby.” 

Even if there weren’t angels, there was Mama, and Daddy, and Sammy.  And Cas.  Who was probably still out there by himself.   

Dean felt a little guilty for leaving him alone again.  He pulled free, and finally went down the steps.   

Behind him, Mary smiled.  “Don’t be out too late, baby.  We’ve gotta get up early in the morning so we can go home.” 

“I won’t,” he called over his shoulder.  “I just wanna say ‘bye to Cas before we leave.” 

He didn’t wait for an answer.  He broke into a run, and didn’t slow down until he reached the stream.   

Castiel wasn’t there. 

Dean’s heart sank, and he kicked a rock into the stream as a way to vent the vague feeling of unrest in his belly.  Hoping Castiel would show up, Dean went looking through all their normal play spots.  The teepee was empty, and Castiel was nowhere to be seen at the crawdad pool.  He checked the mushroom log, and the tiny rock cave.  He walked up and down the bank of the stream for as far as they’d explored together. 

But no Castiel. 

Dean slumped down on the bank and picked rocks out of the dirt with his nails, then threw them in the water.  He felt awful.  He’d run away from his best friend, and now he was going home the next day, and he couldn’t even find Castiel to say goodbye. 

Then he thought of the log bridge.  He’d avoided it because he didn’t want to see the skeleton again, but it was the only place he hadn’t checked yet.  

His feet felt heavy as he walked toward the hill with the log bridge, and it felt like it took forever to get there.  There was nothing to see under the log bridge, and Dean was glad he couldn’t see the skeleton from the bank where he stood.  He almost decided to give up, but he climbed up the hill instead.   

At the top, he stood on one side of the log bridge and looked across.  And there, sitting in the shade of a tree on the opposite side, was Castiel. 

“Cas!” 

Castiel’s head jerked up, and his eyes widened, almost like they had the first time they’d met.  He looked surprised, and a little scared, and Dean felt awful for making his friend feel that way.  “Dean?” 

“Man, I’m glad I found you.”  Without thinking about it, Dean started crossing the log bridge. 

Castiel’s eyes widened even further, and he scrambled to his feet.  He held a hand out in warning.  “No, Dean!” 

But Dean wasn’t going to stop until he got to hug his friend.  And if Castiel was on the other side of the stream, that’s where he needed to be too.  

The bark was a little slippery, but he managed to get across just fine.  He rushed over to Castiel, ignoring his friend’s shocked look, and wrapped his arms around his shoulders.  “Man, I missed you,” Dean said into Castiel’s shirt. 

Castiel didn’t hug him back, and when Dean pulled back, he still looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe Dean was there.  Dean reached up at tapped him on the cheek.  “You okay, buddy?” 

The tension seemed to flow out of Castiel, and he threw his arms around Dean’s neck and tugged him into a hug that was almost too tight.  “I thought I would never see you again,” he whispered. 

Dean returned the hug, happy to get a proper one this time.  He laughed a little nervously.  “I couldn’t leave without saying goodbye.” 

Castiel pulled away again, and his eyes were wide and sad.  “You’re leaving?” 

Dean shifted from foot to foot and looked down at the ground.  “Yeah… tomorrow.” 

“Oh.” 

There was so much sadness in that word, that Dean’s chest felt achey again.  “Hey,” he said, lifting his head to look Castiel in the eyes.  He smiled and gestured around him.  “We’ve never explored this side of the stream.  How about you show me around?  I still need to find the perfect rock for my mom.” 

Castiel stared at him intently for a moment before he smiled shyly.  “Alright.” 

They spent the rest of the afternoon exploring.  Castiel showed him a tree with an owl nest high up in the branches.  He took Dean to a little clearing full of flowers that Dean wished his Mama could see.  They climbed over hills, and logs, and even up a tree once so they could look out over the stream. 

And Dean finally found the perfect rock.  It was almost perfectly round, and it was white with little pink veins all through it.  Mama would love it.   

He shoved it in his pocket and sighed when he looked up at the sky.  Castiel seemed to catch on that his mood had changed, and he stood close to Dean, their shoulders bumping lightly.  “I gotta go home, Cas.”

“Alright.” 

They walked together back toward the log bridge, close enough that their fingers brushed a few times.  After a minute or two, Dean grabbed Castiel’s hand.  Yeah, holding hands was a sissy thing to do, but he was really going to miss Cas, and he really needed to feel him right now.   

When they got close to the bridge, a sound caught Dean’s attention.  He lifted his head, and froze when he saw Sammy in the middle of the log.  His little brother was straddling the log, his hands gripping it tight, and he was making scared sounds that freaked Dean out. 

“Sammy?!”  

He dropped Castiel’s hand and ran for the log.  His little brother had heard his voice, and he looked up.  When he saw Dean he started crying harder.  “Dee!” 

“Buddy, what are you doing out here?” Dean asked as he carefully edged out onto the log.  It was shaky and he didn’t want to rock Sammy loose.  

“Dean!  Don’t!” Castiel called from behind him. 

Dean twisted to glare at his friend.  “He’s my little brother, Cas. I gotta save him.” 

Castiel bit his lip, but he nodded even though his eyes were wide and scared. 

Dean turned back to Sammy who was still sobbing.  “Hey, Sammy.  It’s okay.  I’m coming to get ya.” 

“Dee,” Sammy whimpered. 

When the log rocked a little, Dean went down on his hands and knees and crawled out to the middle of the log.  When he got close enough, Sammy let go of his death grip and pushed himself against Dean.  For a terrifying moment, the log rocked and Dean thought they were both going to go over, but it settled and he held his little brother close until he calmed down a little. 

“What are you doing out here, Sammy?” Dean asked again, petting Sammy’s head like a puppy. 

“Wanted to play with you.” 

Dean groaned.  Sammy must have snuck out because there was no way Mama would let him out here by himself.  “Mama is going to wallop your butt when we get home,” he muttered. 

Sammy whimpered and clung harder. 

“Loosen up, buddy,” Dean said.  “We gotta get you off of this so we can go home.” 

Sammy nodded, his face rubbing against Dean’s shirt.  He was probably getting snot all over it, but Dean would be grossed out about it later.  Right now, he had to get his little brother to safety. 

Whispering instructions, he managed to get Sammy turned around and crawling toward the other side of the bridge.  Everything was going fine, but then part of the bark broke off under Sammy’s knee when he still had a few feet to go. 

“Sammy!”  Dean lunged toward his little brother, and managed to get a handful of his shirt, just as he went over the side. 

Dean didn’t have enough leverage, and ended up falling over with him.  The water seemed to roar as it closed over his head, and he felt a sharp pain in his temple.  He opened his eyes and saw Castiel floating over him.  His mouth was open, and he seemed to be shouting something, but Dean couldn’t hear him over the rush of the water.   

“Sammy,” Dean said.  Or at least he tried to.  What came out was a gurgle and a whole lot of bubbles.  But he had to make sure his brother was safe.  So he tried again.  “Sammy, please.” 

Castiel’s eyes were wide and scared, but he nodded and swam away.  And Dean’s world went dark. 

When Dean woke up, he was lying on the bank of the stream.  The sun had gone down, and the moon, which was almost full lit up the little clearing.  

“Dean!” 

Turning his head, Dean saw Castiel sitting next to him.  His friend leaned over him, still looking worried.  “Cas?” 

Castiel huffed a sigh of relief and sat back on his haunches.  “How do you feel, Dean?” 

“Fine,” Dean answered.  And he did.  He sat up, bracing himself on his palms, and looked over at his friend.  For some reason he seemed to glow slightly.  “What happened?” 

“Sammy is alright,” Castiel answered.  He looked away, and rubbed his upper arm with one hand.  “I pulled him out of the water, and sent him back to your parents.” 

Dean frowned.  It was night time.  His parents were probably super worried about him.  He scrambled to his feet.  “Man, I gotta get home.  I’m going to get in so much trouble!  Especially if Sammy tells them what happened.” 

“Dean wait.” Castiel rushed to stand up with him and grabbed his arm.  “There’s something I have to tell you.” 

“What is it, Cas?” Dean said.  He really needed to get home, but there was something in Castiel’s voice that made him pause. 

Castiel dropped his eyes to the ground and kicked at a stone buried in the dirt with his toe.  “You, uh… can’t go home.” 

“What?” Dean demanded.  “Why not?” 

Castiel peeked up at him, and now Dean was sure he was glowing a little bit.  “You… you didn’t make it.” 

Dean stared at Castiel hard.  “What?” 

Castiel reached up and touched Dean’s face.  His smile was sad.   

And Dean knew then exactly why he couldn’t go home.  “Oh.” 

“I’m sorry, Dean.  It was either you or Sammy, and I-” 

Dean felt his bottom lip tremble.  He stepped up close to Castiel and pulled him into a hug.  “Thanks for saving my little brother, Cas.” 

Castiel’s hands came up and gripped the back of Dean’s shirt.  “You’re welcome.” 

Tears prickled at his eyes, and Dean sniffled.  But he stood up straight and smiled down at Castiel.  “So, uh… what should we do now?” 

Castiel smiled.  It was uncertain, and just as wobbly as Dean’s felt, but it was genuine.  “Frogs come out at night.  Want to go catch some?” 

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean said softly.  “Yeah, let’s go catch some frogs.”

 

\-----

 

_Spring 2005_

 

“Wow, Sam, this place is amazing!” 

Sam grinned as Jess popped in and out of the cabin’s rooms.  The place was dusty and there were cobwebs everywhere because no one had used the place in almost twenty years.  But she was as excited as if it was a four star hotel in Hawaii.   

“Yeah, it’s pretty cool.  I haven’t been here in forever though.  I hardly recognize it,” he said when she bounded up to him and threw her arms around his waist.  

She tilted her head way back and looked up at him, grinning happily.  “It’s awesome that your parents let us use it.” 

Sam agreed, especially since such bad memories were attached to the place.  Honestly, he was surprised his parents hadn’t gotten rid of it.  But then again, it was their last tie to his brother, and he could see why they might want to hang onto it for sentimental value.   

“Yeah,” he said.  “I think they just wanted us to come out here and clean it up so they wouldn’t have to.” 

Jess laughed.  “Damn, that’s smart.”  She pulled out of his arms and braced her palms on her hips as she looked around the main room of the cabin.  “Well, Winchester?  Should we get started?” 

Sam sighed.  It was going to be a long day. 

Several hours later, they had the kitchen area shining like a cleaning product commercial, and one of the bedrooms set up and cleaned out for their use.  They were sitting on the back porch, looking out at the forest, drinking beers.  Jess was leaned against him, using his shoulder as a pillow.  The sun would be down soon, but the crickets were already singing.   

“It’s gorgeous out here,” Jess murmured.  “I wonder why your parents never use it anymore.” 

Sam took a swig of his beer, swallowing it down with the lump in his throat.  “My brother died here when we were kids.” 

Jess sat up and turned to him in shock.  “What?” 

He nodded, still looking out at the forest.  His memories of that time were hazy, but his parents had told him about it more than once.  “Yeah, there’s a stream out there.  Dean and I fell in, and he hit his head and drowned.  Somehow I managed to get to shore, although I’m not sure how.  I was only four, and I didn’t know how to swim.” 

He had a vague memory of a dark haired, blue eyed boy pulling him out of the water, but he didn’t mention it.  Whenever he tried to tell his parents, they’d never really believed him since they’d never found anyone near the stream.  He’d thought at first it might have been Dean’s friend Cas, but since neither of his parents had ever seen the boy, before or after Dean’s death, they believed that Cas might have just been Dean’s imaginary friend. 

“That’s so sad,” Jess said after a moment.  She ran a hand up and down his spine.  “Are you sure you’re okay being here?  I mean, that’s gotta be a tough memory to live with.” 

Sam turned and smiled down at her.  His beautiful Jess with the sharp tongue and the soft heart.  “I’m fine,” he murmured.  “It was a long time ago.” 

She smiled at him and leaned in to press a kiss against his jaw.  “I’m glad you made it out of the water anyway.” 

“Me too.” 

They leaned into each other and watched the sky change colors as the sun set.  When the mosquitoes started attacking, Jess laughed and went inside.  Sam waved away her invitation to join her.  “I’m just going to sit out here for a few more minutes.” 

“Alright,” she teased from inside the screen door.  “But no whining when you’re covered in bug bites.”   

He laughed, and she left him alone.  Slowly, he finished what was left of his beer, and set the bottle down on the porch.  He stood, intending to go inside and join his girlfriend in the questionable comfort of the old bed they were going to share.  But something out in the trees caught his eye.  

It was just a flash of something pale.  Frowning, he stepped down onto the overgrown weed patch that used to be grass, and walked toward the treeline. 

He saw the flash again, and followed it.  His feet found a stone path, and he could see the gleam of the flat stones in the light of the almost full moon, so he decided to see where it went.  He walked for about fifteen minutes before the trees opened up into a clearing cut in half by a stream.  

What he saw made him freeze in his tracks, his breath caught in his throat.  There a few feet out from the bank were two little boys, their forms glowing with otherworldly light.  They were crouched on some rocks and were poking at a pool of still water with sticks.  One wore old fashioned clothing.  A loose shirt, and trousers, with suspenders holding them up.  The other wore more modern looking jeans and a t-shirt. 

A breeze rustled through the trees, and he thought he heard laughter.  It was high pitched and joyous, and his heart squeezed painfully in his chest.  “Dean?” 

One of the little boys looked up.  Even in the dark, Sam could see green eyes and a smattering of freckles below spiky golden hair.  He hadn’t seen his brother except for in pictures for almost twenty years, but he still recognized Dean’s smile. 

Dean nudged the little boy next to him.  He looked up, and Sam sucked in a breath.  It was the boy who had pulled him from the water. 

“Heya, Sammy!” 

The words were faint, carried on the breeze again, like the laughter had been before.  Both boys grinned widely at him and waved. 

Sam lifted his hand, waving a little in return.  

And then the wind blew again, and the apparitions melted away like fog in sunlight. 

Sam stood frozen on the spot for a long time, staring at where they had been.  It wasn’t until a mosquito buzzed across his nose that he blinked back into focus.  He waved a hand in front of his face to discourage the bug, and after one last look around the clearing, turned back to the cabin. 

Inside, he walked silently down the hall and into the room he was sharing with Jess.  She was already under the covers and sleeping, although she’d left the light on for him.   

He disrobed, and crawled under the blanket.  She turned in her sleep and nuzzled against his chest.   

“Everything okay?” She murmured sleepily.  When he didn’t answer right away, she propped herself up on an elbow and looked down at him.  “Sam?” 

He ran his hand through the ends of her hair, watching how the moonlight from the window lit it up like spun silver.  “Do you believe in ghosts, Jess?” he asked after a moment. 

“I’m open to believing,” she answered, sounding a little more awake.  “Why?” 

“My mom always said that ghosts weren’t real, but she believed angels watched over us.  She never stopped believing that, even after Dean died.” 

“Do you believe that?” she asked curiously. 

He thought of the two little boys playing on the bank of the stream.  For the first time in years, he remembered the terror of being stuck on that log, and then falling and falling, and the water closing over him, and not being able to breath.  And then strong arms had wrapped around him and pulled him to shore.   

He’d been so scared.  So, so scared.  But the boy had told him to go home and get his parents, and had promised to take care of Dean.   

“Yeah,” he said after a few minutes.  He smiled and pulled her down to rest on his chest.  He pressed a kiss against the crown of her head, smiling wider when her hair tickled his nose.  “Yeah, I do.”

 [](http://linneart.tumblr.com/post/101534668325)

[Art by Linneart](http://linneart.tumblr.com/post/101534668325)

**Author's Note:**

> I cried when this idea popped into my head. Ow, my heart.


End file.
